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This topic contains 197 replies, has 41 voices, and was last updated by IRuleMe 2 years, 2 months ago.
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Hello Everyone,
I joined at 10:00pm. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking. Bought Ghost so I could write. It’s now 4:00am and I should try to sleep because a couple of young marines are coming by the house to help with some renovations. But I can’t sleep. I need help.
Where do I begin? From the beginning I suppose. Before I do, realize I have a LOT of blue pill mentality. I admit that.
In 1995, I wanted to rule the world, and thought I was doing a good job at it. I was dating multiple women, racing motorcycles, doing modeling, filming TV shows and even got a bit part in a movie. I was becoming a leader in technology in my state. But I was unhappy because I felt that no one could keep up with me. At the peak of my god like high on myself, I met a woman who refused all of my attention. This got my attention, and I desperately wanted to be with her. She wasn’t fooled by my bull s~~~, and I found that irresistible. No matter what I did, I could not get a date with her. One Friday, after everyone else left the office, I asked her out one last time. It was her final chance to be with the most awesome guy in the universe. I offered her to come watch me race that weekend. She said no. Of course.
That weekend I crashed my motorcycle at high speed. I broke my back, my leg, my ribs, and my face. More shattered than body was my ego. This was my first great change in life. What changed me the most was the amount of compassion people gave me, people I scorned for being too simple, slow, stupid, or boring. These people who I hated gave me support and friendship during the long recovery. I couldn’t do anything for myself. Other people took care of me. I was deeply sorry and guilty for my arrogance. In the blink of an eye, I learned very painfully the power of humility. The person who changed me the most during this time was the woman I had been chasing. We began dating while I was still in a back brace and crutches with my face and eyes black. We dated innocently for a long time as I was incapable of doing anything romantic. The situation was romantic enough. I learned how to listen, and to share my feelings. We married three years later.
We began building a powerful life right away. She left the legal field and worked for me. We bought a house and moved my father in so he could retire and live out his days in paradise. We then bought another house next door for her parents. All the while the business was growing and we were working very hard and very well together. Using my architectural background, I began planning a massive remodel of the first house that could hold the business as well as a large family. With all of the grandparents on premise, good income, and plans for making room and comfort for everyone, we turned our attention to having children. That’s when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I didn’t understand the implications at first. We caught it early so the chances of her full recovery were excellent, but the price for saving her life was children. Looking back, we could have done more to try and have kids and/or plan ahead by freezing some of her eggs before chemo and radiation ravaged her body. Instead of thinking ahead at how I would feel in the future about not being a father, I relied on my ego and decided I’d never want to be a dad, that that was too simple, too boring, and stupid. I turned harder to business and making money and building the house. I turned our first house into a four story mansion complete with elevator and all the technology I was good at. Building became my obsession. I was running from a voice deep inside my heart, a voice calling to me from the future – the voice of my unborn child. Way down in my subconscious, buried below the memories of my parents divorce, was a seething hatred of my wife. I hated her for failing to provide the one and true and most powerful resource that women have. The power of life.
I hid my anger very well. I hid it by being the ultimate husband. I compensated for my loss by providing her, my father, her parents, and everyone we made contact great material comforts. I was the greatest friend on earth, always helping people and consoling them in their hour of need. I took responsibility for my failure to be a father by deciding I didn’t deserve to be one, and that I would make up for it with success and service to others. There was a moment, right after she was diagnosed and the doctors made it clear that children were no longer an option, that I thought of leaving her. For I moment I saw a future of loneliness with no one there for me like they were there for me when I crashed my bike. But I could not bring myself to do it. I decided that my vows were more important than my need to carry on through my offspring. I took pride in my choice and this sustained me for a while. It sustained me until my father died.
My father died tragically three years ago. He was struck by a postal truck while riding his motorcycle to the grocery store. He died while we were fighting about something stupid and not speaking to each other. He died in pain and loneliness and I was not there for him. Nobody in the family knew what had happened until later in the day. I remember that day very well. I was in the garage working on something and I knew my dad had gone out on his bike as he always did on grocery day. Shortly after he left, I heard the wail of an ambulance very close to home. I thought nothing of it. There’s always a fire truck or ambulance blaring in the distance because we live close to a fire station. I didn’t know that the sirens I heard were for my father. He didn’t die right away. He made one call from the emergency room that evening. He called my mother in law to ask if she would feed his cat. That call was the first anyone knew of the accident. I tried to go see him but he had requested no visitors. I did go see him the next day, but it was too late. The cat still lives with me.
My behavior following my father’s death baffles my ultra logical mind. I started racing motorcycles again. No sooner than I got back on track, I crashed again. I broke – again – the very same leg I broke 20 years ago. I have a titanium rod in that leg from the first accident, and this accident bent that rod. The surgeons could not operate without removing my leg to remove the old rod, a procedure so fraught with potential complications that they advised against it. So I committed to rehab again, to live with a bent leg. You can’t tell now there’s a metal rod with a ten degree bow in it running the length of my left tibia. I hide my weaknesses well. The real casualty of this second accident three years ago was my wife. She was livid. She was terrified. My stupid action opened the floodgates of her anger. She could not forgive me for being so wreckless. She couldn’t trust that I wasn’t going crazy and ruin everything we had built by ruining myself so carelessly. For six months I had to live on the ground floor apartment where my dad had lived because the elevator to this four story monstrosity of a house was not complete. Six months sleeping alone, with a giant cast on my leg, reminiscent of being unable to make love as before, spelled the end of romance between me and my wife. We have not shared the bed since, even though I’m fully fit and craving affection.
We were working toward reconciliation, to starting over, but then her father passed away a year and a half ago from lung cancer. His only wish was to die at home, so we all hunkered down for the long protracted battle and eventual passing. Her father got his wish, and he passed peacefully surrounded by loved ones the day after Thanksgiving. My wife was the only one actually by his side upon his last breath. She came to us all where we were gathered and announced he had gone. And with that, she was gone too. We did nothing but argue after that. What were our plans for her mom? What were our plans for ourselves? I could tell she had made her mind to devote herself to her mother and not me, although she would not admit this. We grew even more distant. Which is why I decided that I would move on. I didn’t know how I would, but I knew that I still had a chance to restore my family, and that I was going to find a way with or without her. I prayed. I’m agnostic but have a deep spirit, so I prayed to whatever force there is that I would not go quietly into the night. That I would have someone to teach for at least a little while with the life I have left. That I would have someone to leave it all to.
This would be a good time to explain my beliefs on adoption and what not. I don’t want to adopt. I don’t want to hire an egg donor and surrogate. I want my child. There are two natural god given rights that we humans have. Freedom and Procreation. Everybody glosses over procreation because it comes so easy for some people. Baby making is taken for granted. I wish that were so in my case. It all comes into sharp focus when you sit down with a financial advisor and trust attorney and they say, “this would be a lot easier if you had children.” as they hand you a phone number for charitable foundations you can will everything too. No, I believe I’m a good person with exceptional genes that has a right to carry on. But more than that, I believe a child should be brought into this world and raised by the biological parents. Anything less is a lie.
My wife understands and supports my position. We are acknowledging this long, embattled, three year separation with a divorce so that I’m free to pursue a new marriage. Yet we are partners in business and property. The divorce will not be destructive or costly. In exchange for her cooperation, I will not run away and do something crazy. I will support her dream to care for her mother in this large house. In spirit I own the 1st and 2nd floors and can raise a family there, and she owns and can care for her mother on the 3rd and 4th. There’s also the house next door which I’m going to rent out next month to another family, but arrangements can change depending on needs. It’s the most civil divorce known to man you might say. But it presents challenges to anyone I meet and may fall in love with. I have yet to grasp the female heart, but I do know that no matter how civil, cordial, or practical arrangements may be, there is always the creep factor, that sense in a woman that a man is always hedging his bets or not true to his agreements.
Which brings me to the final complexity, the one that keeps me up at night. A year and a half ago, after I moved out of the apartment where I recovered from my second accident and where my father lived, I advertised the apartment for rent. None of the candidates were good enough for the luxury accomodations (price) I had built into the apartment. None except one. A young woman, 23, supported by her parents and loans, starting graduate school at the University just down the road from my house. I tried not to rent to her, but there was no reason not too except for the fact that she was exceptionally beautiful. With my marriage ending and my burning need to make a child, I knew that I would be drawn to this woman against all of the taboos. Age, landlord/tenant, you name it. I avoided her for six months, just collected her rent. But a year ago she asked if I would make an exception on the lease and let her get a puppy. She hardly goes out, never has anyone over, and studies all of the time. I said yes to the puppy.
The puppy was the cutest dog you have ever seen. A cinnamon Chow Chow. Spunky for a chow. And smart. She brought the puppy out a lot for everyone to play with. As the puppy grew and I bonded with it, I offered to take her and her owner to the dog parks. My tenant doesn’t drive, and I have a surf van as well as a supercar, so it seemed on the up and up to go to the dark park a couple of times a week. And through these park runs, usually at sunset, my tenant and I grew close. Very close, sharing intimate details of our lives to the point age that landlord/tenant barriers seemed irrelevant. My wife observed and told me, “you guys are raising a child together.” meaning the care and upbringing of the dog. And that was a true and powerful observation that I refused to acknowledge that led to more arguments. I was content to going to the park, to being friends with my tenant. I discarded fantasies of a life with this girl as fast as they entered my mind. I could handle myself and I knew I would. But then the dog got hurt. It was a routine vet exam and the technicians manhandled the dog and dislocated her hip. Nobody knew what had happened, even the vet. We all thought it was a pulled muscle that would go away. But it didn’t. The dog couldn’t run with me any more in the park, and would fall down wailing in pain. This went on for two months until I finally demanded of my tenant that she demand exams and treatment at no cost to her. She followed my advice, which is why we know now what we didn’t know when it could have been dealt with better. As little as one week ago, the dog underwent surgery to remove the hip socket bone. The dog will have a hipless hip, and be maimed for life. That is something I identify with. It was during the waiting period between learning what her injury was and getting the surgery that my tenant and I got too close. Call it stress, call it guilt over playing a boyfriend girlfriend game at the expense of this poor animal, but for a couple weekends in a row my tenant and I hung out in the garage in my surf van, drinking wine and listening to music. She was always dressed in basically her underwear and I was always sweaty from work. The pressure got to me and I reached out to hold her hand. She did not withdraw. Instead I withdrew and left, frustrated and confused. I wrote her the next day saying we could not do what we were doing. I felt guilty, as if I had taken advantage of this young woman. So I gave her the last month rent free, to acknowledge that I had crossed the line. We’re not talking jump change either. It’s $1,500 a month for a nice apartment in Hawaii.
I realize now that I gave her a month’s rent free because I want to give her another month rent free, and another, and another, until I’ve made her dependent on me. I want to pay for her graduate school, and her next tattoo, and her next hair appointment. I want to pay pay pay because that’s all I know how to do. It’s how I feel powerful. I know I’m the biggest White Knight there ever was, and I can’t stop. It’s an addiction.
I know what’s going on intellectually, but it doesn’t seem to matter. This woman, half my age, without any conscious thought, has trapped me, and I cheered it on. She gets rides to places in my supercar. She asked for the dog knowing I would be drawn to it and we would bond. She visits me in my garage and watches me work, always after she took a shower and smelling like sandalwood. She took the free rent plus all the other upgrades like AC, flat screen tv, new carpet, plus little grocery benefits, making me dependent on my need to give. She baited me, I baited her, and now we are stuck. We’re stuck because she’s not talking to me. A tenant in my own home is icing me out like she’s my wife already. And I’m a sucker for getting mad about it.
I got fed up yesterday and texted an ultimatum to knock off the silent routine because the rent is coming up and the lease expires and I need to know if she’s going to extend for another six months. That got through and her answer was she didn’t know. But the choice isn’t hers to stay or not! It’s mine! I’m the landlord. I am literally THE MAN in this situation. But I can’t bring myself to exercise my legal power and boot her out! I want to hold onto that power. I want to be held under her power.
I know in my mind there is no woman in the world so amazing that she’s worth all my frustration and energy. I’m telling myself it’s not her fault she’s a bitch, that it’s this culture that has f~~~ed her up. I’m telling myself she’s not a f~~~ed up tease because I’M THE F~~~ED UP TEASE. I have dangled treasure and attention in front of her, I have not hid the separation from my wife. Why have I done this?
I love the notion that at 52 I can so absolutely attract a 23 year old. I love what it does for my ego. Yet I have enough to satisfy my ego. Why can’t I stay focused on those activities? I think because I’m still chasing the dream of fatherhood, and any fertile woman in close proximity seems a vital resource I don’t want to let go.
If I had to boil this down to one question of the MGTOW members, my question would be directed toward those elder MGTOWs who do not have children through choice. Did you ever have a burning need to be a dad, and how did you come to peace with giving that up?
Anonymous13Welcome.
That’s quite the intro.
As far as the burning need to be a dad, even at 52.
I’d try and lose that conditioning.
In today’s climate with modern women, it is an absolute certainty you will lose said child at some point.
Any marriage or relationship is going to FAIL, it’s only a matter of when.
Every single one has a ‘done by’ date.
WHEN it does, you’ll then realise how little power you have with regard to the bringing up of your child.
Also,
You will lose HALF OR MORE of your s~~~.
It sounds like you have a lot of s~~~ to lose.
Women are bad BAD NEWS today.
Anonymous42There are two natural god given rights that we humans have. Freedom and Procreation.
Sorry I’m more the Sovereignty and dignity type.
But more than that, I believe a child should be brought into this world and raised by the biological parents. Anything less is a lie.
What world are you from?
In spirit I own the 1st and 2nd floors and can raise a family there, and she owns and can care for her mother on the 3rd and 4th.
make a pilot show on U-Tube and call it “ALL IN THE FAMILY, 2017”, starring Archie Bustnuts.
I have yet to grasp the female heart,
Fishing for smoke with a fishnet…
I want to pay for her graduate school, and her next tattoo, and her next hair appointment. I want to pay pay pay because that’s all I know how to do. It’s how I feel powerful. I know I’m the biggest White Knight there ever was, and I can’t stop. It’s an addiction.
You’ll pay alright…
A tenant in my own home is icing me out like she’s my wife already. And I’m a sucker for getting mad about it.
No, just a sucker.
But I can’t bring myself to exercise my legal power and boot her out! I want to hold onto that power. I want to be held under her power.
So you wanna f~~~ yourself?
Did you ever have a burning need to be a dad, and how did you come to peace with giving that up?
And give up bombhole runs out West where Sunny Bono hit a tree? Not on your life! I live to be FREE!
I think you don’t belong here to tell you the truth. I’d be p~~~ing away that money on myself flying east to the Rockies or Wasatch this winter!
Enjoy your f~~~ed up life!
Anonymous42Welcome.
That’s quite the intro.
As far as the burning need to be a dad, even at 52.
I’d try and lose that conditioning.
In today’s climate with modern women, it is an absolute certainty you will lose said child at some point.
Any marriage or relationship is going to FAIL, it’s only a matter of when.
Every single one has a ‘done by’ date.
WHEN it does, you’ll then realise how little power you have with regard to the bringing up of your child.
Also,
You will lose HALF OR MORE of your s~~~.
It sounds like you have a lot of s~~~ to lose.
Women are bad BAD NEWS today.
Matrix, I love you brother, but you’re just too damn nice.
You can’t negotiate with someone f~~~ing themselves with women and dragging their f~~~ing mess in here asking our advise.
The only proper response is telling them; I won’t tell you to go f~~~ yourself, you’re doing a fine job!
Anonymous13Matrix, I love you brother, but you’re just too damn nice.
Haha, I know bro.
I guess there’s still a lot of aftershocks from when my blue pill world imploded.
I shall endeavour to become a lean, mean NFG MACHINE.
Anonymous7Did you ever have a burning need to be a dad, and how did you come to peace with giving that up?
Sure at a younger age I wanted to be a father. I didn’t have a ‘burning need’.
As I got older I started to see females for what they were.
No way am I gonna hitch my wagon to crazy and provide cash and prizes for two f~~~ing decades at a minimum.Once I decided I was not gonna tie myself to f~~~ing crazy, it killed my desire to be a father.
In other words I didn’t make peace with anything. I went my own way and rejected what society says I should be. F~~~ em.
BTW a bit of advice you didn’t ask for…..
Kick the bitch out and get your own puppy.You can’t walk away from your physiology. I’m not “elderly” as you put it, but I’ve been MGHOW for the past 5yrs.
You do seem to have the exceptional genes you speak of, yet life has a plan for all of us. I can’t tell you what your life plan is but clearly the harder you try to procreate, the harder life gets for you. I reached an acceptance of my fate when I dropped the assumption that I was “a catch”. If you want a child so badly, I advise surrogacy. It’s a highly deleterious form of gynocentrism to try earning a woman’s respect and trust.
Fear of death and dying alone are mighty forces worth analyzing and resolvingI don't need a legacy.. I don't need a monument.
Anonymous13I’ll tell you something else man, this ‘burning need’ is based in EGO.
EGO will get you destroyed out there man, your slaughter will be BRUTAL.
Anonymous13Another thing, this young woman has iced you out after all you’ve done for her.
That’s it right there man,
GAME OVER.
Maybe Bible’s right
F~~~ that I call c~~~ punt.
Better than a punch to the face imho
I don't need a legacy.. I don't need a monument.
Well, it seems like you did get the punch in the face you were looking for…
I believe a child should be brought into this world and raised by the biological parents. Anything less is a lie.
As a guy with one adopted child and one homemade, I can tell you that you couldn’t be more wrong. Especially for a man. Here’s a little secret for you. As a man, you grow into unconditional love for your children. Women have a head start when the child grows inside them for 9 months. They’ve already been caring for that child, you’ve been caring for your wife. My love for my children is equal, doesn’t matter if I made one or not.
You seem like a smart guy: you know your issues and you know what to do to deal with them. You don’t really need any advice other than to do what you KNOW you need to do.
Grown up decisions have grown up consequences. It’s time to face the consequences of your actions.
Good luck, and welcome.
Order the good wine
I don’t know. While reality is stranger than fiction, the OP’s story is just too f~~~ing crazy for me to believe.
Keep feeding him rope, brothers. He’ll either convince us or out himself.
Do not date. Do not impregnate. Do not co-habitate. Above all, do not marry. Reclaim and never again surrender your personal sovereignty.
Tuna radar is on high alert
I don't need a legacy.. I don't need a monument.
Anonymous3No, you’ve all ready been punched around enough. Your living situation in my circles is known as an ” Italian divorce”…man lives downstairs woman lives upstairs.
You have done a pretty good job of getting yourself emotionally screwed up & I find I cannot really blame you.
As a man I took my wedding vows very seriously & my wife ( due to a similar situation) lost the ability to have chidren after our first born. Her illness & recovery threw me into a pit of self-pity & I drank my way out of the marriage.
And who can blame a man for finding a 23 yr old beauty ” f~~~able ” or more so as potential for a child.
But, although you appear to be a phenomenal guy you did a real good job of f~~~ing your life up behind women. Again, I don’t blame you. You went for the cheese & the trap sprung.
It’s hard to picture a 23 yr old holding 50 + guy hostage in his own surroundings. But I bet it was a lot of fun for awhile….that’s the Blue Pill delusion. Hollywood endings no longer exist after you’ve swallowed a few Red Pills.
I am quite sure you have been beat up & tormented enough to wake up.
Great intro. You are a great man.Now its time to stop beating yourself up & get back on track with yourself.
Stick with the winners.
Stick with MGTOWI don’t know. While reality is stranger than fiction, the OP’s story is just too f~~~ing crazy for me to believe.
Keep feeding him rope, brothers. He’ll either convince us or out himself.
The overall tone I got reading his intro is that he’s kind of an ass, but at least he knows he’s an ass. He has a wife that took care of him in his time of need, but doesn’t seem to like to return the favor very much. And the world will be just fine if his incredible genes aren’t passed on. To give up on his spouse because she got sick isn’t exactly “till death do you part.” Based on his story, he’s the one that lied when he stood up at the alter and made a promise, not her. Everything was great until a couple of life issues come up, and then he wants to bail.
If his story is what the phrase “If you can’t handle me at my worst you don’t deserve me at my best” means then I might have to rethink that phrase. Because from what I read, she’s too good for him….
Order the good wine
Anonymous42Another thing, this young woman has iced you out after all you’ve done for her.
That’s it right there man,
GAME OVER.
Someone found some ass to tap and it isn’t his!
Keep feeding him rope, brothers. He’ll either convince us or out himself.
I am with OldBill on this.
The overall tone I got reading his intro is that he’s kind of an ass, but at least he knows he’s an ass.
I’m all for giving him time, TaxGuy. While his post reads like a bad soap opera, only time will tell one way or the other.
Let him have the rope he wants and then see what he does with it.
Do not date. Do not impregnate. Do not co-habitate. Above all, do not marry. Reclaim and never again surrender your personal sovereignty.
Anonymous42Keep feeding him rope, brothers. He’ll either convince us or out himself.
I am with OldBill on this.
Why waste the rope? We’re not a crisis management center for dudes still willing to hold the toxic ashes and consume the poison. He has no idea where MGTOW road starts and by the looks of it he’s more concerned with his blue pill life.
It’s like trying to educate a drunk that refuses to stop drinking! He still hasn’t HIT BOTTOM and obviously ignores all the warnings…
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